


An unexpected visit.

by soriksorik



Series: The Bridgerton Drabbles. [1]
Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, First Meetings, Possibly fluff, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soriksorik/pseuds/soriksorik
Summary: Anthony Bridgerton judges a lady too quickly during the season and has to face the consequences.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Elizabeth Bennet, Anthony Bridgerton/OC, Anthony Bridgerton/Original Character, Anthony Bridgerton/Original Female Character
Series: The Bridgerton Drabbles. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086383
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	An unexpected visit.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that came to me out of nowhere after I finished watching the show. It is not set in any particular moment, so take it and place it wherever and whenever you please.

“I am an outsider here, Sir. I know nothing of the gossip, nothing of the scandal, the family fortune or whatever else. My opinion of everyone and anyone is one that I have created myself from the careful study of their character through the simplest of conversations.” Lizzie muttered, her gaze running over their surroundings, landing on anyone and anything but her directly present company. “So far, my opinion of you leaves one wishing for more. You have painted yourself in the worst possible light and I am truly ashamed to have ever entertained a thought of upholding a conversation with someone as conceited and snobbish as yourself.”

At that, the woman rose from her seat, her gloved hands adjusting her skirts. She hovered there, for a moment, not daring to step away but also deciding it best not to look back at her companion whom, much to her pleasure, she had left speechless. Finally, Elizabeth decided it best to  _ truly _ leave the last word with her.

Slowly, she turned to face the seated Anthony, her tone unwavering. “Good day, Mr. Bridgerton, and I do hope we shall never have the displeasure of having to uphold another conversation ever again.”

That had been the most memorable moment of the first and, what she had hoped to be, last conversation that Miss Bennet and Mr. Bridgerton had shared during one of the many seasonal balls. To her greatest pleasure, apart from the occasional jests and the astonished look on his face when she had called him out on his most disgusting character, Elizabeth had failed to remember anything about the conversation but the utter feeling of despise for the man that he started building itself within her ever since.

It was why she was mostly surprised when her lady informed her Mr. Bridgerton had called upon her for tea, and the surprise was not pleasant, to say the least. Of course, the invitation had been accepted on her behalf by her mother even before Elizabeth could voice her discontent about the matter and there was nothing left for her to do but to simply oblige. What more could he possibly have to say to her? Lizzie was quite certain he had voiced all of his opinions, deserved or not, that day at the ball. She wondered what other vile remarks the man had within his possession.

Lizzie sat in the drawing room, her eyes running over the letter printed in a book she had picked up thoughtlessly whilst waiting for her caller who was, already, rather unfashionably late. If he was trying to make a better impression on her than he had the first time, he was most certainly failing.

The much overdue, and still a little unexpected, knock startled both mother and daughter. Both recovered quickly, the older woman motioning for their lady to return the knock, signaling for the footman on the other side to open the door for their visitor.

Elizabeth raised herself from her seat lazily, folding the book that she had not managed to read a word of. Her mother, too, rose from her east, moving towards their visitor who entered with such haste that he nearly pushed over their lady’s maid.

“Forgive my tardiness,” the man muttered, offering the older woman a nod of his head in recognition. “I was held up.”

Margaret, Elizabeth’s mother, offered the other her hand. He took it, offering her aged knuckles a customary kiss before lowering her hand and slowly turning to face the younger woman in the room.

His eyes on her were carefully calculated, not taking her in for longer than what was proper. It was as if he was shy, something that completely contradicted the way he had behaved upon their first meeting.

“Good day, Miss Bennet,” the man finally uttered, breaking the awkward silence and offering Lizzie a nod of his head.

“Good day, Mr. Bridgerton,” she responded coyly, returning the sign of acknowledgment before she simply turned, showing the man towards the tea table that had been set up with numerous sweets and fruit, whatever may be to the man’s liking. “Please… so that we can finish this ordeal in an orderly and quick manner. I would not wish to waste any of your precious time.”

“Elizabeth!” Her mother snapped immediately, turning on the woman, halfway towards the place where she had been seated previously. She was red with anger, and although Lizzie understood that what she had just uttered should never leave the lips of a lady, Anthony deserved every ounce of criticism thrown at him.

Anthony did not say anything, simply followed Lizzie’s lead towards the set up, his hands clasped together behind his back. The girl could swear she could feel his tension radiating into her. It was quite unsettling.

Lowering herself into one of the chairs, she watched as Anthony came to settle himself beside her, his hands coming to rest on his thighs, fingers worrying the fabric. He tried to hide it, but it was quite clear to Lizzie just how nervous he was. She could not help but wonder what had him so worried. Surely he could not much care for her opinion of him, since he made it his night’s work to destroy it upon their first meeting.

“Tea?” the woman asked softly, beginning to fidget with her dress. A side effect of his own emotions, she was sure.

Anthony offered her a nod and Lizzie signaled for their maid to serve them tea.

That sat in silence for another moment before Anthony spoke up, unexpectedly. He turned himself a little more towards her, giving the young brunette all of his attention. Suddenly, he stopped fidgeting, his hands relaxing as they rested on his trousers. He seemed calmer now as he looked at her, their eyes meeting. There was a tension there, a communication intangible and yet much more intimate. Lizzie had to force herself to look away, inhaling a shaky breath.

Thankfully, the housemaid was there just in time to serve the couple tea, cutting the tension and breaking whatever it was that the two had shared for the briefest of moments. Lizzie could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, and she was not entirely certain why it felt as if it wanted to leap out of her chest. Must be the disgust she harbored for the man since their first meeting. Surely, it was simply that.

“Forgive me,” Anthony finally said, after a long silence. His voice cut through the air, almost hurting her eardrums as the sound registered. Although his tone was quiet and calm, gentle, even, it was most unwelcomed. She simply could not shake her annoyance.

Lizzie slowly turned her head to face the man who was looking at her without for a second allowing his gaze to lower itself. His eyes burned into her and it made the woman blush, even if the reaction was most beyond her control, she was immediately ashamed of the pinkish flush to her cheeks.

Offering the other a gentle shake of her head, Lizzie spoke up softly. “There is nothing to forgive.”

However, Anthony shook his head most ardently. His fingers curled into tight fists, his knuckles going white momentarily, before he relaxed his hands again. “Yes, there is, my lady. There most certainly is.”

There was another moment of silence between the two in which Lizzie took a sip of her tea, pretending that whatever it was the man was trying to say did not worry her in the slightest. Frankly, all of his fidgeting and the nervousness had actually caused the other to wonder what it was that he was trying his best, and completely failing, to convey to her.

“My behavior was inexcusable,” he finally blurted out. “I had a horrible day, and although that does not explain my vile tongue and my spiteful words, I do truly hope you know that nothing that I said reflected you in any way. Although I do not know you, I can see that you are beautiful, but beyond that, you are witty and courageous for you did not hesitate to put me back in my place that night in the moment in which I so foolishly lost my way.”

An apology. A sincere one at that. Of course everything made sense now. His call, his nervousness… she almost pitied the man, but admired his decision to have gathered his courage and show his face before her, to have put aside his ego and formulated such an apology.

There was another moment in which Lizzie decided to stay silent, almost taunting the man. She could see that he was eager for her to either accept his apology or send him running. Elizabeth decided to wait a little longer before addressing everything that had been said to her, causing him to tense up visibly, his knuckles going white once more from the force of the fists he had curled.

Lizzie wondered for a moment if this man was capable of laughing… smiling, even. She should think that any person can perform such a simple act and yet, looking at Mr. Bridgerton in that moment, she doubted it a great deal. It seemed to her, from the little that she knew of him, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and thus prevented him from showing any other emotion but the constant discomfort that seemed to distort his otherwise lovely features every time she had seen him since her arrival. Of course, it was either that or the sight of her was so horrific to him that he could not hide his disgust. If the latter was true, then his entire apology was to go up in flames in that second alone.

“I forgive you,” the brunette muttered, even if the sound that left her lips seemed alien and far away, as if it was not her that was saying the words. “I forgive your indiscretions, Viscount. I hope that, as you say, it was simply the circumstance of the day that had you in such a foul mood.”

Anthony smiled, briefly so and the act barely reached his eyes, but for a moment his lips curled at the corners and pulled back to reveal a row of perfectly placed, white molars. He smiled and it struck Lizzie as the most peculiar, but also the most beautiful, thing she had ever witnessed.

Oh, so his face does not break from the occasional show of emotion after all? How interesting to know.


End file.
